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One NIght in Paris, Texas	By : TheByronicMan Category: M through R > Newsflesh (trilogy) > Newsflesh (trilogy) Views: 1163 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Newsflesh Trilogy or any of the related published works. I do not make any money from this story. Any resemblance to persons living, dead, or living dead is coincidental.

Chapter List
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Morning dawned way too early. I rarely wish I'd been born a man, but this was one of those times. Men have it so easy sometimes, a few minutes to shave and shower, even less time to get dressed, run a comb through their hair, and they're ready for any party from a beer bash to a black tie ball. Rob and his buddies could sleep in for hours longer. But at least I felt pretty good, hardly any headache and my stomach was calm. It was the best I'd ever felt after a night of drinking like that. Big brother had been right about preventing hangovers, not that I would ever admit it to him.
Rob and I had always been intensely competitive. We were always racing, fighting, studying for higher grades, and we wore out a dozen gaming consoles and countless decks of cards. I might wish I was curvier, but I looked damned good for my body type, slim and toned, built like a cross between a marathon runner and a gymnast. I owe that to physical contests with my brother. I can survive a cut-throat poker game without losing my shirt, and in a friendly night of strip poker I don't lose it until I want to. Much of my dating success in my teens was because I enjoyed video games, and how they handled being beaten by a girl determined whether there was a second date. I cruised through college. After all those years of matching wits with Rob, dealing with professors was a pleasant challenge rather than a daunting task. Most of my classmates seemed a bit dim in comparison, though the 'non-traditional students' (those 30 and over) proved to me that brains and book learning alone were no match for life experience. I joined Rob in his Hapkido Gangshi (aka 'Zombie Fu') class, and Master Vega recently complimented me on being more technically proficient than Rob, although he has far more practical experience. I'm also a better rifle shot than he is, and that's a high bar to hurdle, but he's better with handguns and especially point-shooting.
The only rules between ourselves growing up were; we couldn't sabotage each other, we couldn't tattle to Mom and Dad when a fight got a little out of hand, and where we weren't competing we had to help each other as much as possible. That's why big brother pulled out all the stops to help me become a zombie tracker. Well, technically I'm a 'Post-Kellis-Amberlee Amplification Manifestation Syndrome Human Tracing and Recovery Professional,' but not even bureaucrats try to use all of that in an acronym so my license number is PTR-6. (One of the cops ahead of me in line failed certification for health reasons) People hire me and my team to track down a particular zombie and bring it back for cremation and burial. Usually it's a family member, sometimes there are legal reasons why it's necessary to prove someone is dead.
All of that aside, Rob was winning the marriage race today, so I wasn't going to concede him any victories on the hard drinking front. I suppose I should have been pouting on the sidelines rather than helping the wedding go forward as Bobbie's maid of honor, but I owed it to her for the way I acted when she first entered Rob's life. I treated her badly, seeing her as an interloper, in no way a suitable replacement for Rob's childhood friend and adulthood lover, Chris. I had a girlish, unrequited crush on Chris myself, and his death hit me pretty hard. She was oh-so-understanding of my distress that I wanted to punch her, not realizing that she was genuinely concerned about my feelings. She loved Rob so much that the thought that she was driving a wedge between us was painful for her. Finally, Dad took me aside for a little attitude adjustment, and Bobbie and I have grown closer ever since. I still wasn't Bobbie's first choice for maid of honor, Lori was, but then Rob threatened to make me his 'best man.' So Bobbie picked me, and for symmetry he took her brother Ben for the best man slot. Lori later thanked me for relieving her of the responsibility.
As I was thinking about Lori, she peeked in to ask if I needed help in the shower.
I waved her off, “I can handle it myself.”
“From what I heard from our room last night, you already did.”
I blushed. I hadn't realized she could hear me. Either she and Kate had been pretty quiet, or they hadn't gotten started until after I passed out. Oh well, I hoped she enjoyed the view as I padded naked to the bathroom. Half an hour later, cleaned, disinfected, shaved, and dressed, I joined her and the rest for the trip down to the salon. I caught Bobbie casting covert glances at me, clearly worried that I might be out of sorts over some of the things that had happened the night before. I allayed her fears with a fierce hug and stood up on my toes to give her a kiss on the cheek. With that, we packed into the elevator for the trip to the ground floor, and no one took the opportunity to flash downtown San Antonio this time. One of the reasons we chose this hotel was because we could get our hair and makeup done here, and when we entered the salon the staff was waiting to descend on Bobbie and whisk her away to make her even more beautiful for her big day.
The rest of us had our turns as the experts finished up with Bobbie, and after about three hours we trooped back up to the room to finish getting dressed. I was way out of practice with hose and had no experience with garter belts, but Kate helped me get everything in place, only feeling me up a little in the process. After deforming myself into a push-up bra that gave me the illusion of having C cups, I looked in the mirror. The cleavage on display was well worth the effort, and I definitely needed to get some stockings and garters for the my dating arsenal. Next came the heels, and a matching clutch purse just large enough to conceal my handgun. My calves are a little too muscular to be perfect, but they still looked pretty good. Finally, the dress, a medium gray number that matched the groomsmen's bow ties and cummerbunds. Rob abhors bright colors, an occupational hazard. I liked the color, it made the bridesmaids dresses understated and elegant rather than the customary gaudy. And they made a great backdrop for Bobbie's dress, an off-white silk with pearls that suited her Amazonian frame and perfectly set off her coffee and cream complexion.
I twirled in front of the mirror, my hemline flaring out to reveal the tops of my stockings and my hair flowing in a wave behind me. I love dressing up, but don't get many chances these days. The clients all expect braids, armor, and weapons, and don't take me seriously otherwise. I suppose the zombies might prefer me in a skimpy dress, cumbersome high heels, and easily grab-able hair, at least as much as they are capable of preferring anything, but they were stuck with the warrior-princess look too.
My little pirouette had left my hair disarranged, so I brushed it back into place, glad I hadn't opted for any complicated hairstyle. With surprise I realized we were ready to go and still had nearly an hour before the wedding was to start. While the rest of the bridesmaids did some last minute primping, I went and sat beside Bobbie.
“Look, I don't really have any problems with last night, I just don't get it. I mean, there's Kitsune, and that business between Rob and the Park Ranger chick. I mean, you two are about to get married.”
Bobbie took my hand and held it in both of hers, looking into my eyes. “I know, hon. How two people with such different outlooks as you and Rob could come out of the same household is beyond me. Here's how it is; Rob and I believe that love can't be divided, only multiplied. If I have sex with or even love someone else, that doesn't lessen my love for him. And if I love him, I want him to be happy, even if sometimes he's happy in the arms of someone else. We both try not to get involved with anyone who won't accept that Rob and I will always be together. There have been a few that tried to cause problems, but we got shed of them and our relationship grew stronger.”
I looked down nervously, and she patiently waited for me to meet her eyes again before continuing.
“We haven't met anyone who wants to stick around for the long haul, but we hope to someday. We would love to be in a long-term quad, or maybe even a line marriage.”
“Okay, I can figure out what a quad is, but what's a line marriage?”
“What, your dad never made you read The Moon is a Harsh Mistress ? A line marriage remains open to new people marrying in, generally with the unanimous consent of the spouses. That way it continues even after the original spouses are gone. Rob and I like the idea of our marriage living on after we are dead.”
“Does Rob know about you and Kitsune last night?”
“He sure does, I sent him a text first thing this morning. He spent the night alone after getting all worked up at the party, poor guy. He'll be raring to go for the wedding night.”
Bobbie looked blissful at the prospect.
“Anyway, one of our rules is that we always let each other know who and when. When we're apart, that's all he wants to know.”
“What about you?”
“Oh, I want to know every salacious detail. Keep in mind, anytime he leaves the house, he has cameras with him. And I can control them.”
“You mean you watch?”
“Hell yes! And letting the more persistent groupies know that I'm going to watch sends most of them away without hurting their feelings. If they're still interested, well, I love watching your brother in action. He could have been a porn star, he's one hell of a man, especially where it counts. If you know what I mean.”
I knew. I'd never intentionally peeked at Rob, but growing up sharing a bathroom, accidents were bound to happen. It was on my second time watching the original George Romero trilogy that I realized why he had named his personal blog 'Anthropological Curiosity.' He loves subtle innuendos.
“Do you record the videos?”
“Of course. I'd offer to show you, but I don't think Rob would go for that, and he made promises to the women.”
“Okay, that's the first thing you've said that's really freaked me out. I have no interest in watching my brother 'in action.' But, umm, just women?”
“Yeah, he shies away from men. I'm sure you can understand why. But I think he's starting to get over it.”
I understood. Chris' death was rough on him, and he blames himself. That's why he never took on another partner for field work, he doesn't want to put anyone he cares about at risk. Not even me. He supports me in my career as much as he can, but he has refused every offer to go along with me. He doesn't want to have to be the one to put me down if something goes wrong.
I looked up at the clock. “Oops, time to get moving.”
Bobbie and I gathered up the rest of the bridesmaids and went looking for the limo driver. We found him in one of the bedrooms in Bobbie's suite, but not the one that she and Kitsune had used. I couldn't tell which of the remaining two women had shared it with him, and no one was saying. Hell, maybe it was both, he looked like he was in good enough shape for the ordeal, and it would explain why he was still crashed out. We headed back down to the lobby with him apologizing the whole way for not having the car ready. We made it to the appointed spot in front of the fountains at Hemisfair Plaza on time. The weather was clear, so they had dispensed with the tent, leaving just a screen for Bobbie to hide behind until it was time to make her grand entrance.
I had this impression that the wedding was beautiful and perfect. But the last thing I remembered was walking down the aisle alongside Ben, clutching his arm as though my life depended on it. My second-in-command and ex-boyfriend, Lance, sent me a discreet thumbs-up from where he stood with the rest of Rob's groomsmen. I don't remember letting go of Ben, but I must have. I had to have been even more nervous than Bobbie, terrified I would do something to distract attention from her. Or even worse, get me ridiculed on YouTube. Another hazard of Rob and Bobbie's occupation, there were cameras everywhere, their own and those of the guests. Most of the guests were Rob's fellow Irwins, the only people crazy enough to enjoy being outdoors in a crowd this size.
Unfortunately for them, no zombies interrupted the ceremony. At least, I'm pretty sure I would have noticed something like that. Oh well, at least my crew helped populate the bride's side of the aisle. My next coherent memory was of the guests cheering as Rob and Bobbie wrapped themselves around each other and kissed passionately, and the brief flash of amusement on the minister's face at the sight of Rob groping Bobbie's ass. I was pretty sure the ass-groping was mutual, but I couldn't see for sure.
The newlywed couple led the procession to the base of the Tower of the Americas and took the first elevator up by themselves. Like our hotel, the front of the elevator was glass, but Bobbie refrained from flashing us. She and Rob did however wave as they rose out sight. The wedding party was next, followed by the guests. Upon arriving at the restaurant at the top of the tower I got my first look at the wedding cake. Surprisingly, they had opted for traditional figurines at the top rather than something zombie-themed. Then I looked more closely. There were figures representing the bridesmaids and groomsmen on the lowest tier, armed and poised to defend the happy couple from the horde of zombies populating the groom's cake.
Much food and alcohol was consumed, toasts were toasted, the pleasant glow from a few glasses of champagne calmed my nerves. The wedding cake was cut, and each of us in the wedding party got the slice with our own figure atop it. Mine was an amazingly good likeness, even had me carrying my favorite rifle. Then it was time for the dancing.
There was no space big enough on the main floor, so we made our way up one level to the bar overlooking the dining room. The new husband and wife danced to some fifty or sixty year old country song that I'd never heard before. It was sweet and appropriate, but just not to my taste. I claimed the next dance with Rob, while Bobbie danced with her brother Ben. The previously mentioned Park Ranger was in line behind me, and Bobbie's friend 'Iceman' was next up with her. Both dances were far more affectionate than mine and Ben's had been. I had seen Iceman's car around their building from time to time when Rob was in the field, but after my talk with Bobbie I trusted that Rob knew and approved. After watching a while longer, I made my way back down to the dining room. I stood there for a moment, stupidly wondering where my table had gone. I didn't think I'd had that much to drink, but finally remembered that the dining room is supposed to spin. It makes one revolution an hour, giving diners a view of the entire city over dinner. My seat had migrated around the curve. Luckily, to the benefit of serious drinkers, the bar stays put. I finally found my chair and slid into it, spending a few minutes staring into my empty champagne glass and wondering where the waiters had disappeared to.
The kitchen door burst open, disgorging five men wielding silenced handguns. They began to level their guns at the crowd when there came the sounds of dozens of safeties clicking off, that of my Colt 10mm caseless among them. Lance was instantly beside me with his own gun drawn, no doubt to the annoyance of his date. The intruder's faces were bathed in the glow of tactical flashlights and peppered with the red dots of laser sights. Assaulting an Irwin's wedding ranks right up there in stupidity with robbing a cop bar. They stood dumbfounded for a moment, then dropped their guns and raised their hands. They were quickly tackled to the floor and trussed up with whatever was handy. I looked up to see Rob leaning over the bar railing, tucking Dad's old Colt Peacemaker under his coat. How the hell had he managed to conceal that monster under a tux? Then I remembered my conversation with Bobbie, and reflected that he was used to carrying a cannon around in his pants. The wedding guests were starting to relax again when my brain suddenly kicked in.
Silencers. Absent waiters. I shouted, “Heads up! We may have an outbreak!”
I could almost hear the crickets chirping as twenty heartbeats passed and nothing happened. Lance and I kept our guns raised, waiting. Then the first moans came, and one of the cooks staggered through the kitchen door, a bloodstain in the center of his chest. Over a dozen assorted cooks, waiters, and other staff followed him, moving with the jerky speed of the recently converted. He went down with one of my prefragmented bullets pulping his brain, and the ex-waiter right behind him dropped from a nearly identical head shot as Lance fired. The rest lunged desperately at the crowd, but a fusillade of fire took them down. Almost all head shots, I loved working with professionals. A few brave souls ventured into the kitchen. Hell, they all headed towards the kitchen, but the first three to the door were allowed to proceed without a crowd dogging their heels. More gunshots sounded, and a few minutes later the stalwart Irwins reappeared, just in time to take their turns with the test kits. Everyone came up green. Several others raided a maintenance closet for bottles of bleach, and had just liberally applied it to the bodies and blood stains when an SAPD tactical squad exited the elevator.
Hm, less than five minutes from the first shots, impressive response time. Maybe this big a crowd of Irwins had made the city nervous enough to keep them on standby. They seemed almost disappointed to have nothing to do other than secure the scene. After another fifteen minutes the detectives arrived, putting an end to the party. In attempting to question a bunch of trained and experienced journalists, they gave as much information as they got. The gunmen were all known to work for one of the cross-border drug cartels, likely the one that Rob had recently annoyed. They were low-level thugs, probably considered disposable and not intended to survive. The lead detective speculated that the zombies were supposed to be the real threat. He looked chagrined at having admitted that, and excused himself from the room.
Finally, the questioning was completed and we all moved towards the elevators to return home. We filtered into the parking garage in time to see Rob gallantly assist Bobbie in boarding his old surplus armored vehicle, which he had recently nicknamed 'The Dilemma' after attaching a massive pair of horns from a longhorn bull to the front end. Rob also loves bad puns. I smiled to see he had finally gotten the programmable paint job he'd been lusting after for years, and he had set it to display an animated white banner that read 'Just Married.' After the newlyweds headed out for parts unknown, the rest of us went our separate ways.
I thought about trying to cut a likely-looking man out of the crowd for some nighttime stress relief, and decided why the hell not? Playing around on the other side of the street the night before had been fun, and maybe if I got drunk enough I'd do it again, but I had an itch that only a dick would satisfy. Too bad Lance had brought his new girlfriend, because after tangling with zombies he'd be just as horny as I was. I ducked into the ladies room to freshen up, and took the opportunity to slip my panties off and tuck them into my bra. I had a client meeting in the morning, so I didn't have much time to waste. I went into the ground floor bar and spotted a good prospect. One of Rob's friendlier competitors was sitting alone at a table having a beer. I'd met him a few times, and from the way he'd looked me over I knew he was attracted. He was just my type, with the lean athletic build common to his profession. The last few times I'd seen him I was still dating Lance, or I would have gone after him already.
I slid into the chair next to him, turning it to face his way. "Hey, Ken, is this seat taken?"
He smiled at me. "It is now. Would you like a drink?"
"Nah, I got pretty wasted last night, taking it easy today. So, what did you think of the wedding?"
"A little boring up until that last part. Um, you do realize you mooned everybody when you went for your gun, right?"
I laughed. That hadn't even occurred to me. With this dress, the only way I could carry a gun concealed was with an elastic band around my waist holding the holster at the small of my back where my hair would hide the bulge. I had to hike up the back of the dress to get to it, so anyone behind me had a clear view of my ass. "I hope you weren't offended."
"Not at all. I rather enjoyed the view."
"I bet you'd like the view even better now." I took a quick glance to make sure no one else could see, then parted my legs. The dress was short enough that my bare cunt was in plain view from his direction. I was a little shocked at myself. I was still uncertain about whether I was really bi, but I had for damned sure turned into an exhibitionist.
"You win that bet." It only took Ken a few seconds to shift his gaze up to my face. Bonus points for him.
"Really? What do I win?"
"What do you want?"
I let eyes wander down to his crotch. There was already a nice bulge, but he clearly wasn't fully hard yet. He shifted position so that the fabric of his slacks stretched more tightly across his cock. I looked back up at his face and smiled. We made small talk laced with innuendo while he finished his beer. Ken suggested a moonlight stroll along the Riverwalk, and I readily agreed. We headed that way, pausing at every secluded spot to kiss passionately. By the third stop I had unzipped his pants and was stroking his cock at each opportunity. His hands kept disappearing under my dress to fondle my ass. By the time we reached the stairs down to the river I was almost panting with desire. We hurried down the path beside the water until we found a bench in a shadowed spot. We kissed again and I pulled his dick out through his open fly. He sat down on the bench and patted his lap. I thought about enacting my fantasy from the night before, but I couldn't wait that long. I straddled his legs and lowered myself until I was impaled on his hard throbbing man-meat.
Wait. Did I actually think in those terms? I really needed to stop reading bad erotica. Whatever I called it, it filled my aching cunt and triggered an immediate orgasm. I grabbed the back of the bench and used that leverage to ride his cock as hard and fast as I could. His hands cupped my ass, helping my motions. I leaned my head back, gasping in pleasure. He buried his face in my cleavage, one of his hands leaving my ass and sliding up my back to unhook my bra. I freed one of my own hands long enough to pull it and my dress down to free my tits. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and gently bit down on it, and I came again. Somehow, I found the energy to fuck him harder. He didn't last much longer after that, but I didn't care. The feel of him cumming inside me triggered a third orgasm, stronger than the first two.
He wrapped his arms around me while my body shook as I came down from the heights of pleasure. Without his support I probably would have fallen on my ass or even tumbled into the river. Finally, I gave him one last kiss and stood up, finding that my legs really would support me. We both readjusted our clothing into some semblance of proper order.
I said, "That was amazing, but I need to get going. Got to work in the morning."
He looked a little out of sorts, but soon recovered his composure. "Get in touch if you want to do this again sometime."
"I think you can count on that," I said, then headed for the nearest bridge over the river and back to my hotel.
Once there I got my luggage and my car and drove home. I had a lot to think about on the way. The thrill of fucking in a public place where anyone could walk by and see us had been incredible. Of course, the chances of that happening were nil. Hardly anybody left their homes unless they had to, and that was especially true at night. Before the Rising, the Riverwalk would have been packed on a night like that. These days there were a few bars and restaurants left to serve the locals and tourists that visited in the daytime. But they all scurried away to hide behind locked doors by the time the sun went down. The very danger that drove away the crowds had added some extra spice to the sex, and there were still a few brave souls that ventured out at night. Maybe even other couples looking for a private spot to fuck. So we could have gotten caught. I was still musing about it when I got back to my place. I considered getting out some toys for a solo match, but I was exhausted. I didn't even bother to take the stockings off before collapsing into bed.
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One NIght in Paris, Texas